Page 105 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

I wonder what he’s waiting for.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, suppressing a contented sigh. Knowing Grey, he was thinking everything through, from time and place to the exact words he would choose to share with her. Perhaps, then, she ought to wait for him, even if every moment did bring her closer to staging her own confession. As they had a few hours ahead of them, she resolved to contemplate the possibility of taking matters into her own hands. Now, however, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of Grey’s chest against her, she felt her eyelids begin to droop. Soon, she was asleep, her mind at rest.

When she awoke, it was to Grey’s soothing voice. “We’re in town.”

“Are we?” Farah mumbled, not wanting to peel herself away from him. “That was fast.”

“Did you sleep well?”

She nodded. “Better to sleep than think about Helena. I cannot wait for her to write me.”

“I’m certain she’ll do it first thing,” he said, his thumb skimming back and forth over her shoulder.

Farah shifted toward the window. London greeted her, the passing buildings the same as they always were despite Helena no longer inhabiting one of them.

“Have you ever wanted to visit France?” she asked.

His response was a pleasant, “My wanting to go anywhere is highly dependent on the company.”

“Oh, you know what I’m asking,” she said with a giggle. “I’ll be needing a travel partner for when I visit Helena.”

“I think I’ve quite established myself as your travel companion at this point,” he replied. “In fact, I’d be offended if you decided to invite anyone else on your adventures.”

“Then we’re in agreement,” she chirped. “Perhaps we should—we’re here!”

By the time the coachman opened the door, Farah had disentangled herself from Grey. The view that greeted her, however, was not the one she’d expected.

“I thought I was being dropped off at Willow House.”

Grey shook his head. “I have something I want to show you.”

Farah’s breath caught in her throat. Had they been possessed by the same idea? And if so, she wasn’t ready! She almost definitely looked a mess, all rumpled and puffy from sleep, her hair a disheveled—

It doesn’t matter.

Grey helped her out of the carriage, depositing her on the pavement in front of Montgomery House. He lifted a finger to his lips. “My grandmother is likely asleep.”

Farah nodded, mirroring his gesture in a show of understanding. She began to follow him, realizing that they were walking toward the garden.

“Look,” she whispered, stepping through the soft mist, “the sun is starting to rise.”

“Damn it,” was his inexplicable, grumbled response. “Just—wait here. Please.”

Farah did as she was told as Grey went back into the house. Appreciation for the soft, gentle romance of early dawn mingled with excitement and anxiety in her veins as she took in the familiar scene.

Familiar, and yet—and yet she noticed lanterns hanging from the branches, as well as baubles of colored glass. Remnants of a party, maybe.

Just as impatience was beginning to settle in, Grey returned with what appeared to be a box of matches and a somewhat grim expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It—everything was meant to be ready for you, but I can’t wait another damned day to do this. Are you cold? Will you give me a few minutes?”

She shook her head no to his first question and yes to the second.

On another day, she might have been all too aware of the cold seeping through the cotton of her dress. But today, Farah Rafiq was, for the first time in her life, about to experience a confession of love.

Which was, really, enough to warm her right through.

Chapter Twenty-Five